


Bedtime Story

by Ribby



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story to help Boromir sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Story

**Author's Note:**

> Another for the [InsaneJournal Porn Battle](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/porn_battle/5443.html). The prompt was Aragorn/Boromir, bedtime stories.

  
"Can't sleep, Boromir?"  
"No, it's... too dark, too close, too cold."  
Aragorn nods. "I understand. Perhaps I could tell you a story to help you sleep?"  
Boromir's voice is bemused. "A...story?"  
"Yes." Aragorn's is amused, and a little smug. Boromir can't help but wonder.  
"Go on then, tell me a story."  
"Get comfortable, then. Maybe..." the flash of teeth in the darkness "loosen things a bit."  
Boromir grins. One of *those* stories, then. He settles against his cloak, loosens his shirt and pants, enough to breathe a bit.  
"Are you sitting comfortably?" Aragorn asks. "Good, then I'll begin."  
A deep breath, and Boromir leans closer, not wanting to miss a word. "The first thing I take off is your cloak, spread it out neatly on the ground. Then your shirt, running my fingers over that fine cloth, still warm from your skin."  
Boromir sucks in a breath. Aragorn's voice is close, wrapping around him in the darkness, almost as tangible as his hands.  
"Then your boots, worn and scuffed but perfectly suited for your feet. Warm wool socks, baring your long, fine-made feet.  
"Your belt, then your pants and smallclothes. And then, when you're naked, I lay you back on the velvet of your cloak and watch your skin glow in the contrast."  
Boromir can't stand to be silent any longer. "I can feel your eyes on me... almost as much as your hands. I stretch, posing a little... after all, that's what you want, isn't it? To look at me, all of me? My hands slide down my chest, plucking at my nipples, at ribs, swirling along my hips... and then finally grasping my cock, sliding up and down... and my eyes never leave yours."  
Aragorn groans softly. "Even in this, it's a battle..." but his voice is soft, warm, amused. "I strip, considerably more quickly. When I'm naked, I press myself against you... warm skin on soft velvet." They both moan quietly at the idea. "If I could, I would take you, here and now... but we have neither time nor means. I reach down, grasp our cocks in my hand, and begin to stroke, thrusting against you and into my hand."  
Boromir by now is stroking himself, trying to keep quiet--from the bitten-off hiss he hears, he knows Aragorn is doing the same. "I thrust up under you, following your rhythm, loving the heat of you and the grip of your hand and your cock pressed against mine, hot and slick and pulsing...." he breaks off, nearly there.  
And Aragorn's hand is suddenly on his cock, warm and callused, and his hand reaches out and finds Aragorn's steel-hard erection, and it only takes a few more strokes before they both come, together, biting their lips to keep quiet.  
Silence and deep breathing for a few minutes. "Do you think you can sleep now, Boromir?"  
He smiles in the darkness. "A good-night kiss would help."  
Warm lips, smiling, descend on his. "Good night, Boromir."  
"Good night."  



End file.
